Lullaby for a Stormy Night
by AhabsCrosshairs
Summary: England is awoken by a frightened little America, and sings a lullaby to help him sleep. One-shot. No pairings, just pure fluffy fluff. -Momo-


**A/N: **Alright, everyone. This is my first fanfiction ever. ;w; Criticisms and suggestions are welcomed, but please be kind, I'm new at this orz

After writing this, I noticed there's a few other stories on here with the same topic. I'm not surprised, the idea is adorable. Just throwing it out there, if you enjoy this, go find the other (better-written) ones :'D

I gotta credit DarknessWarrior, who posted a video that I found on YouTube titled "Hetalia Lullaby for a Stormy Night". That was my inspiration for this, so I needed to give props =w=b

I do not own Hetalia, which is a damn good thing; (c)Hidekaz Himaruya  
>I also do not own the lyrics (or any other part of the song) to Lullaby for a Stormy Night; (c)Vienna Teng<br>All I own is the order in which these words are arranged :I

Enjoy~

* * *

><p>It wasn't the jarringly loud claps of thunder that awoke Arthur that gloomy night, nor was it the vivid streaks of lightning that cut through the sky. No, of course not; if anything, it helped him sleep. He was from Britain, after all, and storms in the night had become more of a comfort than an inconvenience to him.<p>

What woke him, rather, was the small American boy standing beside Arthur's bed, fearful tears streaming down his round little face.

Arthur (quite subconsciously) felt a soft tug on his pajama sleeve, and hardly heard the quaking whispers of his name. But he merely rolled over at this, in the opposite direction, for he was having quite pleasant dreams of perfectly brewed tea at the moment and was desperately attempting to hold on to them.

Then, a monstrous roar of thunder shook the whole house, which caused little Alfred to jump nearly three feet in the air and produce a noise so frightfully high-pitched that made Arthur bolt upright in his bed. He stared down at the sight before him; a sobbing, trembling little thing; and a tired, knowing smile crept its way upon his face.

"There, there," the Englishman reached over and switched on his bedside lamp, driving away the darkness in his room and replacing it with a warm, dim-orange light. "Stiff upper lip, now. I'm right here." With that, he reached down and lifted the young nation up and into his lap. Alfred did not hesitate in the slightest to throw himself upon Arthur and wrap his tiny arms around him, uttering small, frightened noises.

Arthur's smile broadened, sympathetic and paternal. "Now, Alfred, such tears aren't necessary." Alfred's face was buried in Arthur's chest now, and the Brit reached up to affectionately ruffle the soft brown hair that belonged to his little one. "It isn't terribly bad, is it?"

At that moment, another crash was emitted from the storm and urged a yelp out of Alfred's mouth. Tearful blue eyes fixed themselves upon wiser green ones, and the American spoke in a rather small voice. "I-It's really sc-scary…! You're not scared o-of anything, s-so you wouldn't kn-know."

Arthur breathed out a small laugh at the statement, thick eyebrows arched upwards with amusement. "Of course there are things I fear. When I was a young boy, like you, I was even afraid of storms."

"Really?" This seemed to surprise the American quite a bit. He'd always looked up to Arthur and seen him as strong; grumpy, yes, but invincible.

"Of course," the older nation half-sighed, simply from his tired state. "And if memory serves correctly, there was a song that always calmed me down," he added with a growing smile. The warmth in his tone was most certainly not heard very often; the child in front of him happened to be a weakness of his. "Perhaps I can remember it for you."

For the first time tonight, a smile danced across Alfred's face. Though his eyes were still wet and tearful, a glimmer of hope shone in the irresistible blue orbs. "Yeah!" Arthur couldn't help but notice how tired the boy was; the fear and anxiety was keeping him awake.

"Alright, alright." He attempted to sound dismissive or irritable, but failed to do so; his smile completely discarded any trace of negativity. He shifted Alfred a bit, to get himself a bit more comfortable. After clearing his throat, he began to sing out; his voice wasn't too quiet, nor too loud, and was gentle as his hold on the American boy.

"_Little child, be not afraid. _

_The rain pounds hard against the glass, _

_like an unwanted stranger; _

_there is no danger. _

_I am here tonight._

_Little child, be not afraid. _

_The thunder explodes and lightning flash_

_illuminates your tearstained face._

_I am here tonight._

_And someday you'll know,_

_that nature is so. _

_The same rain that draws you near me_

_falls on rivers and land,_

_on forests and sand…_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see,_

_in the morning."_

Melodious song filled the room, seeming to drown out the unpleasant noises of the storm. Arthur's face was dreamy, and a hint of nostalgia was tied to his expression as he recalled the many nights that this song was sung to him.

"_Little child, be not afraid._

_The storm clouds mask a beloved moon,_

_and its candlelight beams_

_still keep pleasant dreams._

_I am here tonight._

_Little child, be not afraid._

_The wind makes creatures of our trees,_

_and their branches to hands…_

_They're not real, understand._

_And I am here tonight._

_And someday you'll know, that nature is so._

_The same rain that draws you near me_

_falls on rivers and land,_

_on forests and sand..._

_Makes the beautiful world that you see,_

_in the morning."_

Alfred was entranced, his gaze never leaving Arthur's peaceful face. His eyes were heavy and half-lidded and his heart's beat had steadied itself, but he struggled to stay awake to hear the end of the lullaby.

"_For you know…_

_Once, even I was a little child._

_And I was afraid._

_But a gentle someone always came,_

_to dry all my tears,_

_trade sweet sleep for fears_

_and to give a kiss goodnight._

_Well, now I am grown,_

_and nature has shown,_

_rain's a part of how life goes._

_But it's dark and it's late,_

_so I'll hold you and wait,_

'_till your frightened eyes do close…"_

Arthur's own eyes were shut now, lost in his own memories.

"_And I hope that you know,_

_that nature is so._

_The same rain that draws you near me_

_falls on rivers and land,_

_on forests and sand…_

_Makes the beautiful world that you see,_

_in the morning._

_Everything's fine in the morning._

_The rain'll be gone in the morning._

_But I'll still be here in the morning."_

A peaceful silence followed the song. Even the storm's wrath seemed to be ceased; the thunder and lightning were nowhere to be seen or heard, and all that remained was the soft sound of the falling rain against the rooftop. Upon looking down, Arthur noticed that his companion had fallen fast asleep, cuddled up in the crook of Arthur's arm.

"Well… That's that, then."

Arthur made his way back to Alfred's abandoned room, cradling the tyke in his arms. But as he secured him under the covers, a little voice arose from the child, to Arthur's slight astonishment.

"Was Francis the 'gentle someone'?" Hardly audible. Alfred's eyes were still closed.

Arthur smiled gently at that, and placed a tender kiss on Alfred's forehead. But all he gave in response was a "Goodnight" before retiring to his own bedroom.


End file.
